Rituals to Realization

Fold your hands and bow down, visit holy places, repeat the prayers or shlokas—what does it all mean? As children, I followed along without questioning. When I got curious and asked for explanations, the answer was often, “Just do it.”

In my teenage years, I began to see that many stories behind rituals were rooted in fear—fear of God, fear of punishment if we didn’t comply. When I voiced my doubts, I was labeled as rebellious and stubborn. I decided to participate half-heartedly without questioning, to avoid being in the family’s bad books. 

Hearing the same stories year after year and performing the same rituals, it turned into habit. 

At the age of 22, the death of my grandfather shook me deeply. In search of answers, I took my religion seriously for the first time in my life. I was drawn to Bhagavad Gita. Arjuna articulated my questions perfectly, and Krishna’s responses led to even more questions. Krishna knew that the mind struggles with simplicity, so he churned the mind to such an extent that we eventually arrived at one point: “Connect with the inner self, to higher consciousness. From there, one can find all the answers.”

I wondered, “Is this a conclusion or another puzzle? Connect with my inner self, higher consciousness? How is that possible?”

I decided to follow the temple rituals, hoping they might help me connect to my inner self. I started visiting the temple twice a day, attending prayers, stopped eating onions and garlic, danced in kirtans on the streets, and participated in all the exhausting Rath Yatras and pilgrimage trips. An exhausted body does quiet the mind, at least for a few minutes.

However, I didn’t agree with some of the temple’s concepts, such as their preference for males over females, and other man-made ideas. But I overlooked them because I was determined to find the answers.

I continued temple rituals sincerely for many years. One day, while performing these rituals, I had a sudden realization. On weekdays when I rushed to college, I hurried through my prayers, distracted by thoughts of packing my bag, eating breakfast, and catching the bus. But on holidays, when I had time, I performed each step of the ritual mindfully and enjoyed the process. This contrast was eye-opening. What is the point of rituals if I am not mentally present? From that moment, I made a conscious effort to slow down during prayers, chanting and temple visits. Without even being familiar with terms like “awareness” and “observation”, I was becoming more aware.

From birth, we perceive everything in physical form—mother, father, food, water, clothes, school, etc. It’s easier to connect with the tangible. Focusing on a specific object or mantra helps stabilize our restless minds. Visualizing God in some form makes the connection easier. We know God by hearing his stories of his kindness and love. 

After practicing rituals for 15 years, I have been practicing meditation for 13 years. Now, I can effortlessly experience peace and silence without relying on any specific name or form. The purpose of my journey was to realize this truth. Rituals are beautiful and foster family bonding, especially if we can add appropriate stories based on hope, courage, and unconditional love.

Today, I love participate in family traditions with joy. The difference now is that I understand what I’m doing.

Poem

Where have you gone, where have you gone? 

When I close my eyes, no vision, no pillar to hold on, 

No one inside me now, only empty space,

In which I am standing alone,

What about the days I spent in chanting and prayers, 

All have evaporated,

Fearful to be free and alone, 

I cry like a child,

Need your guidance to stay and to carry on. 

Where have you gone, where have you gone.